Shadows and Dust
by Calliope Foster
Summary: Taken from a chapter in the life of Proximo and how he experienced love and loss, just as Maximus did. R&R please! And enjoy!
1. One

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Proximo, the Colosseum, or Rome, but I own everyone else. A woot to Oliver Reed, Ridley Scott (my hero), and Rome. I've always wanted to know the story behind Proximo and I actually had this idea years ago, about his loss and how similar he and Maximus really are. By the way, I am totally in love with Maximus. RIP Oliver Reed. I'm guessing there's probably loads of people with this title, but bear with me. It's the best I could do for ol' Proxie.

**Shadows and Dust**

**One**

When Maximus walked away from me today, I watched him pretending he was myself once—broken, but I was not so honorable or so inspiring. I suppose he believes I could not understand loss or desertion, but I know the both of them well.

I was a foolish man in my youth. Always brawling and being a show-off to the older boys, but that is one of the many reasons that I became a gladiator aside from the fact that I was a newly freed slave who had just bought his freedom and was then incredibly poor. Being a gladiator I was adored by many, especially the young women of society and I was often requested to bed them after many a conquest.

During those times when I was young I know not how many seedlings I cast about until I received a surprising visit from a very prestigious woman. Olivia was the wife of a senator by the name of Cassius. Nearly a month before, Cassia, their youngest child and only daughter, had come to me seeking what all women sought of me. She paid me earnestly and I repaid her with her wishes, producing the belly that was now swelling.

"This will ruin us." Said the woman. "And I will not make a rash decision about what to do with the child, for it is as much yours as hers."

My throat had gone dry and my stomach weak. I felt as if she were telling me that I was to bear the child. "And what are your daughter's thoughts?"

Olivia, the old goat, just lowered her eyes a bit. Even in indignity she held a great pride about her graying person. "Cassia wishes to bear it, despite the shame."

I thought for a moment. A child. _My_ child. A robust ruffian or a sweet little girl. I smiled momentarily at the image in my mind, but it faded as well as my smile and all I saw was the woman. "Her choice is also mine."

At this Olivia seemed slightly relieved almost, as if she had a quota of votes to fill. "Then there is hope yet."

With that, Olivia began to depart, but I wanted to know more. "Will I ever see it?"

Pausing, Olivia glanced back. "Yes. You will."

My heart swelled at her words—a child, a family of my own. How I loved the prospect. The war of my life would soon cease and there would be love. If only for a moment in time.

Cassia came to me not long after, but it seemed too long for me and her belly was visibly growing. The woman came in a carriage, being lofted by several men and I was called to hold a conversation with her. When I saw Cassia, the glow on her skin made me want to scoop her into my arms, and kiss her a thousand times for all the happiness I had gained.

I did not think she would be so cold.

When they chained me to the wall, let Cassia in, and shut the door I felt the closeness in the air and also the discomfort. "Won't you come closer?"

"I do not think that would be wise."

"I did not hurt last time." I said with annoyance. "What makes you think I should hurt you here?"

Slowly and reluctantly, Cassia stepped forward, the light shining on her making her look glorious and I told her that. "Don't flatter me." Cassia insisted. "I don't think I can bear it."

My heart sank. She was here for the child I reminded myself, not for me. "Let me touch you."

The young woman gazed at me—she was so small and frail looking it was almost as if she's break in two if the child grew any more. When Cassia looked frightened, I explained to her my motives. "I will only touch your torso, only for the child." I insisted. "Only to have him know I am his father."

Slowly, Cassia made her way toward me as her silk robes swayed with the lace she wore to cover her hair. Finally Cassia was close enough for me to touch her and I did. I pressed my hands to Cassia's belly, the supple skin beneath her dress molding to my hands as I felt her womb. "How much longer?"

"A few months." Cassia said; her voice a little more relaxed.

We stood together in silence as I felt her heartbeat beneath my hands and I imagined the baby, sleeping in the womb—dormant until his time to appear. "Will you come again…soon?"

Cassia pressed her hands atop mine gently and smiled. "Yes."

After removing my hands from her stomach, Cassia gently kissed my cheek, my dark curly hair falling onto my forehead as we gazed at each other. "What will happen to him?"

With a sigh, Cassia shook her head although her brown eyes remained focused on me. "I don't know…"

"Don't worry." I whispered softly. "Everything will be all right."

I suppose that is what I wanted to believe, too.

Cassia left then and I remember that sunny day—how beautiful Cassia was when she walked away, glimmering in the sun. I fought rigorously that week. I won every event—but I put on quite a few spectacles, enough to make the crowd love me as always. I was the champion to the people and the grave to my opponents. In those days there was more killing. Animals were meant to die, like most of the weaklings they shoved into the arena. It was so hard to put on a show when the opponents are slobbering idiots.

I did not see Cassia again, but I did see Olivia. The old woman came to me, her dark eyes grim, and her wrinkled lips pursed. I was chained to the wall again to speak to her.

Cassia was dead, Olivia said, the baby had come to soon. A little girl. Cassia and my child were gone. I did not want to believe the old woman. I fought with her, my mind becoming my fists.

"Liar!" I snapped, tugging at the chains. "Tell me where they are!"

"Why would I lie?" Olivia snapped. "It happens all the time! Babies live and babies lie and so do young girls that you ruin!"

The fierce lion within me growled a bit and then retreated. "Forgive me…I…"

"I know, boy," the old woman bravely touched my shoulder, "it is hard for all of us…we have both lost a daughter and we both have cause to mourn…but we _must_ carry on. I must go on being a mother and a wife and you must go on being a gladiator. That is the way of things."

"Yes." I agreed reluctantly. "We must."

Olivia left me there, still chained, and I felt as if a retarius had speared my heart with his notorious weapon. "Damn you!" I shouted to the sky. "Damn you for what you've done to me!"

In my cell I cried like a woman over my loss. It's strange how easy it is to cry when you have not been hurt physically. A grown man, sobbing in his cell like a child. I wanted to hold my daughter in my arms. Lift her to the sky and be thanking the gods, not condemning them.

Jupiter be with me. I was not so strong then.


	2. Two

Two

My story is not yet over. Yes, for years I believed Olivia's lie. Her lie. Olivia had nearly broken me in two. Months later I left Rome to pursue the life of a gladiator elsewhere, so my master could showcase my talent.

The life I had as a gladiator is a story that I will not tell you, for it is every master and slave story. The master buys you, you are to do your duty until the end, and then you either buy yourself freedom, are set free, or you die.

All around me I saw shadows and dust. Men wanting to grow old playing the deadly sport of a gladiator, women wanting to love these men without responsibility, and the masters who wanted only money and blood. Greed drove us then and it drives us now.

I had gained notoriety by then and it had been many years since I had been back to Rome, but my return was a good one. Food, wine, and women were plentiful in Rome, but first I had to earn it all.

On my return to Rome I nearly died, but fate would keep me alive. The arena was filled, men and women packing the stadium to the hilt, and there, on the opposite side, came my enemy. Tigris of Gaul. The fool.

So many times I had defeated this bumbling fool and still he lived. At least I could get a drink with him after the show—he always knew the best places in town.

Now we were enemies and we stared each other straight on. Tigris was not so fancy then, only with a pelt of a wild animal, and a bit of armor that was nicer than mine I may admit. "We who are about to die, salute you!"

Marcus Aurelius was young then, his rule young, too. He was the sun, the god, and his children climbed all about him with fervor to sit in his lap and watched the games.

Tigris struck first, kicking some sand at me, and I took the lead, wailing my sword in the air and striking the nitwit just above his shield. Tigris fell back a few feet, inspecting his new wound with only a glance.

"I should have killed you years ago."

"You took pity on me." Tigris replied with his deep accent. "Besides, how could you get the best wine without me?"

I charged at Tigris, knocking him back a few more feet with my shield and then striking at him again and again before he nearly was pinned to the wall. "Proximo! Proximo!"

Cried a little voice, and when I took a moment to raise my eyes I saw her—Cassia. Cassia was in the crowd, cheering, beside her husband, a baby in her arms, and a young little girl straining to get a good look as she called to me. "Mama!" Cried the little girl. "He sees me!"

Cassia saw my diverted attention and when our eyes met she sat in utter disbelief. "Ah!"

I stumbled back, inspecting the new wound across my chest, and then I turned my attention to Tigris. "You should have been paying attention."

"Stupid bastard." I growled.

Soon I had Tigris pinned on the ground, his head beneath my foot as I wielded my sword, waiting for the sign from Marcus Aurelius. The crowd called for life and so did the emperor, pointing his thumb away from his chest. The idiot would live today.

When I entered the bowels of the coliseum I was greeted by my furious master. "Look what you did! Now I have to pay for a doctor!"

I ignored the old wart and went on to wash my face of the sweat and sand. After being seen to by a physician, I went to my chambers where I could rest for some time, but when I arrived I was not alone.

"Proximo."

I stared at Cassia, at first with shock, and then anger took its place. "Back from the dead?"

"Is that what she told you?" Cassia asked with regret. "I thought she told you the truth…"

"And what is that?"

"I married." Cassia replied. "A wonderful man. A good man, who treats Aemelia like she is his."

"She's alive?"

Cassia paused. "Forgive my mother…what she did she did in good judgment."

"Where's my daughter?" I commanded. "I want to see her."

"No, Proximo, you can't!"

I grew furious. "How dare you! She's _my_ daughter!"

"It would break her heart!" Cassia cried. "I never told her who her real father is—who _you_ are to her…but she _adores_ you. She even places bets on you, but she doesn't know who you are to her…neither does anyone else except for my mother and I. She desperately wishes to meet you…you're her hero."

"Let's hope she's not turning into her mother." I spat bitterly.

Cassia's gentle demeanor faded and she became cold. "If you wish to see her…I can make arrangements. I can't promise you anything."

I gazed at the woman, still small and fragile looking, but she had aged beautifully and the maturity within her face shone, as did her happiness. I took off one of my rings. "Give this to her." Grabbing Cassia's hand, I shoved the ring into her palm. "Don't tell her who it's from if you wish."

Cassia left.

I suppose I had no faith in mankind after what I had been through many years before. Cassia kept her word, though.

A fortnight from my arrival in Rome I received visitors and when I was summoned, that is when I saw Cassia and our daughter at her side. I marveled at the sight of her, Aemelia—how I could not forget her name. It meant 'one who opposes' and it would prove to be a very good name for her indeed.

"My daughter insisted she thank you personally, great Proximo." Cassia smiled as Aemelia gazed at me with bright eyes. "Aemelia, this is a friend of mine, Proximo."

"I know who he is, Mama." Aemelia replied, her eyes alight. "Thank you for the ring, Proximo, it's beautiful."

I smiled gently. All little girls liked jewelry. "It was the least I could do, my dear."

The ring was thin a gold, but the rock it held was priceless and a shimmering dark purple color, like Aemelia's eyes. A cross between brown and blue, producing violet within those eyes, and she had hair not so black like her mothers, but light and sun burnt like mine. Aemelia was not so thin as her mother, but built like me with high cheekbones and a strong lower jaw. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on.

I wished I could have been her father, but it was impossible. In that small amount of time I had with Aemelia, I felt nearest to heaven.

"How old are you, little one?"

"I will be thirteen tomorrow." Aemelia replied with a great smile. "Do you think you could come?"

"Aemelia—"

"Oh but Mother, please!" The little girl pouted. "No one will believe that I got this ring from Proximo unless he comes himself!"

Cassia started to admonish the little girl. "Now, Aemelia, surely Proximo has other things to do tomorrow—"

"Well then ask him!" Aemelia commanded, then turned to me. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

I was a little shocked by Aemelia's brazen nature. She reminded me of my mother, who taught me I must fight to survive. "I would not be fit to attend at such a party, child."

"Of _course_ you are." Aemelia rebuked. "You're Proximo and tomorrow I want you to come to my party—that's it Mother, all I want for my birthday. I want a real live gladiator at our villa!"

Cassia was torn. "Oh Aemelia, what would your father say?"

"Yes," I agreed with a laugh, "he shouldn't like me being there."

"Of course her would!" Aemelia argued. "You know how Papa loves the games—I shall ask him the moment we arrive home. Nice meeting you Proximo, I will see you tomorrow!"

With that Aemelia ran off, Cassia rolling her eyes, bidding me farewell and going off herself. A birthday party, I thought. Good thing Senator Aemelius Faustus did not know Cassia's dirty little secret about me.


	3. Three

**Three**

The party was filled with upper class guests and somehow I was welcomed gratefully inside. Cassia's husband wished to have words with me, sit with him as an equal, talk and drink with the men. It turned out to be a grueling interview, but soon the men grew weary and lingered elsewhere as the young boys who were invited brawled, the women gossiped and ate, and Aemelia looked weary and bored.

I snuck up behind her. "You don't look very happy for a little girl turning thirteen."

Aemelia spun about, her eyes wide with amazement and then she sighed. "I'm perpetually bored with these dull witted women. All they talk of is wine, money, and men."

I smirked knowingly. I had felt out of place as a lad—all men wanted to be was rich and lazy. "Show me the gardens, Aemelia."

Standing, Aemelia took my hand and led me to the gardens. I did not wish to see the flowers, but gaze at my child as a man should, to see how she's grown and want all the best for her. I sat while Aemelia named the flowers, telling me which ones she liked and which she could have done without. I laughed at Aemelia's cleverness. She was smart and everything I could not have given her.

"How do you know so much about flowers?"

"Hours of being bored." Aemelia replied as she rested on a nearby bench. "I must keep my mind amused with something, so I go through the scrolls."

I smiled gratefully. Thank the gods she could read. "It must be nice living here."

"I'd rather have no home at all than sit here being bored out of my mind all day." Aemelia replied rolling her eyes and looking at me with interested. "What about you, Proximo? How exciting your life must be! Traveling all the time—getting to fight and do what you wish and never be punished for it."

I frowned. "Yes…but there are prices to pay. Friends are rare and if you have any there's a chance you're going to have to kill them sooner of later."

Aemelia stared at me for a moment. "We'd better get back to the party before they start wondering where we are."

I nodded in agreement, but paused. "Your father Aemelia, is he a good man?"

Pausing, Aemelia stared at me for a moment, knowing the question was odd, but then she shrugged. "A lot of people like him. He's nice to me when Mother's around. He likes my brother's better."

"Come now, that can't be true."

"He's told me so." Aemelia shot back. "He's not my _real_ father anyway."

Had I not waited so long I may have told her, but Cassia came then and spotted the two of us. "Oh there you are." Cassia smiled, then turned to me. "A man has come to retrieve you, Proximo."

I stared at Aemelia, her mother enclosing her in her arms. "Be a good girl." I said to Aemelia and moved toward her, handing her a golden cowry shell necklace. "Happy birthday."


	4. Four

**Four**

Two years passed rather quickly in Rome and Aemelia grew older, visiting me as often as she could. I grew to love Aemelia more and more and I started to forgive Cassia for what she and her mother had done to me.

"Proximo!"

I turned to see Aemelia running to me, one of the guards trying to grab her. "Proximo help me!" Aemelia cried in terror, grabbing onto the bars of my cell. "Protect me Proximo, please! I beg you!"

In shock, I stared at my child, her eyes red from crying and her arms outstretched to me. I ran to Aemelia, taking her hands in mine. "Goodness, child, what's the matter?"

"They've cast me out for a price!" Aemelia sobbed. "To the highest bidder—I'm going to be married to some crone of a senator!"

"Leave us be." I called to the approaching praetorians, then reached through my iron cage and took Aemelia into my arms. "Don't cry, my dearest, it is the way of things."

"Please, Proximo, you must help me." Aemelia begged, pulling away, gazing at me. "You must—I cannot marry!"

"I cannot help you, Aemelia." I replied sternly. "Go home. Do as your father tells you, it is your duty."

What else could I do?

Aemelia glared at me and pulled away in shock. "You would side with _them_?"

"What can I do, Aemelia?" I snapped. "I am _not_ the one with riches!"

"Then it is true…" Aemelia backed away, "I can't trust anyone, can I? Not even you…my best friend."

My heart broke. "Aemelia, please…"

Without another word, Aemelia turned and ran away crying. "Aemelia!" I called after her. "Aemelia come back!"

I regretted my rejection of Aemelia. I was her father—I was responsible for her and I could have saved her, but I took no action. Little did I know that I would have a second chance.

Later than night Aemelia came to me again, this time I met her accordingly and I at first believed she was Cassia, in a silken robe, a long sash covering her hair. When Aemelia turned to me I was shocked. "You _have_ to help me…"

"You should go home, child—"

"I know who you are, Proximo." Aemelia interrupted me. "I know you're my father…I've known for these two years…but my mother told me today, because I demanded to know. Now you _must_ help me, Proximo, you _have_ to help me."

"What can I do, Aemelia?" I sighed. "I have no power—nothing to offer you!"

I could have bought Aemelia from them for I had many riches, but that would have been a foolish move. "I have nowhere else to go…" Aemelia took a seat on the bench provided and covered her face as she began to cry, "and if I marry my life will be over…I have not been home all day…I'm afraid to go back."

Women are property. To own and to sell—to bear children and to cook. It's a notion many men believe, but one that I found hard to grasp as a young man.

Taking Aemelia's hands in mine I just sighed and gazed at her. "I have friends…they can help. Guard!"

One of the men turned and stared at me. "Retrieve my gold, take a denari or two for yourself."

The guard agreed and marched off, then I looked to my child again. "You will go to the nearest brothel, just before the colosseum. Ask for Antika. Tell her who you are and give her a few pieces of gold. She will feed you and provide you with shelter for as long as you need."

Aemelia nodded, taking in my information. The guard threw my purse to me, filled to the brim with gold pieces. "Here," I put the gold in her hand, "keep it in a safe place and do not leave the brothel for three weeks time, then come to me."

"Oh I couldn't—"

"Look at me, Aemelia." I gazed at my daughter, observing her violet eyes. "I may not have been a father to you in the past, but I will be your father now. I love you, daughter, and will do anything for you."

Perhaps anything was not enough.

I was visited by others that night, searching for Aemelia, and one of them was Cassia. I had paid the guards well enough to keep their tongues crossed, as well as any other who might have cast their eye on my daughter.

"Where is she?" Cassia asked. "I knew she'd come here."

"I don't know." I replied. "She came here, but I refused her. We can only hope she is all right."

"You're lying."

"I am concerned for Aemelia as you." I growled. "Is it _my_ fault she ran away?"

"No…no…" Cassia shook her head, "but I'm so worried…"

"She will be fine." I assured Cassia. "Aemelia is a smart girl—a good girl."

"It's my fault." Cassia bit her nails. "I shouldn't have told her, Proximo. She went mad. When she came back from visiting you she begged me to tell her…and I couldn't refuse her."

"It's not your fault." I comforted. "Perhaps you should go home and rest…come back tomorrow if she's returned and don't come back until she has. I have paid some men to search for her."

"Oh thank you." Cassia smiled, gently touching my face. "If only you weren't a gladiator, Proximo."

Aemelia followed my commands and in three weeks she came to me. My daughter was dressed like any other harlot, a red toga with long, dangling earrings, dark eyes, and lips as red as a rose. "What have they done to you?"

"I have to earn a living now, Proximo." Aemelia replied. "I can't be reliant on everyone."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I won't stand for it, Aemelia, you're an honest girl."

Aemelia just laughed. "I thought you'd fall for it…it's only a disguise. No one would want me back after seeing me like this."

I could not help but chuckle myself. "Red is a lovely color on you." I said, gazing at her attire. "But it doesn't suit you. Don't get comfortable in it."

"Well that's an odd statement."

"Are you all right?" I asked. "Do you have enough money? Enough food? How is Antika treating you?"

"Money and food are good and Antika is lovely."

"As long as she gets her pay." I sighed and produced another bag of money. "Here, take this."

"Proximo…don't make me _feel_ like a wench."

"I owe you this, child," I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her forehead, "now be off and return to me in a few days to tell me how you are doing."

"Thank you, Father."

My heart swelled.


End file.
